Knowing how this King's mind would change from hour to hour, she had little hope in his words. Nevertheless slowly it came into her mind that if she were ever to act, now that he was in the mood was the very hour. But she knew nothing of the coil in which she now was. Yet without the King she could do nothing; she was in the hands of other men: of Throckmorton, of Privy Seal, of God knew whom. 'Sir,' she said, 'at the end of this passage stood a man.' The King looked past her into the gloom. 'He stands there still,' he said. 'He is tying his arm with a kerchief. He looks like one Throckmorton.' 'Then, if he have not run,' she said. 'Call him here. He has had my knife in his arm. He holds a letter of mine.' His neck stiffened suddenly. 'You have been writing amorous epistles?' he muttered. 'God knows there was naught of love,' she answered. 'Do you bid him unpouch it.' She closed her eyes; she was done with this matter. Henry called: 'Ho, you, approach!' and as through the shadows Throckmorton's shoes clattered on the boards he held out a thickly gloved hand. Throckmorton made no motion to put anything into it, and the King needs must speak. 'This lady's letter,' he muttered. Throckmorton bowed his head. 'Privy Seal holdeth it,' he answered. 'You are all of a make,' the King said gloomily. 'Can no woman write a letter but what you will be of it?' 'Sir,' Throckmorton said, 'this lady would have Privy Seal down.' 'Well, she shall have him down,' the King threatened him. 'And thee! and all of thy train!' 'I do lose much blood,' Throckmorton answered. 'Pray you let me finish the binding of my arm.' He took between his teeth one end of his kerchief and the other in his right hand, and pulled and knotted with his head bent. 'Make haste!' the King grumbled. 'Here! Lend room.' And himself he took one end of the knot and pulled it tight, breathing heavily. 'Now speak,' he said. 'I am not one made for the healing of cripples.' Throckmorton brushed the black blood from the furs on his sleeve, using his gloves. 'Sir,' he said, 'I am in pain and my knees tremble, because I have lost much blood. I were more minded to take to my pallet. Nevertheless, I am a man that do bear no grudge, being rather a very proper man, and one intent to do well to my country and its Lord.' 'Sir,' the King said, 'if you are minded to speak ill of this lady you had best had no mouth.' Throckmorton fell upon one knee. 'Grant me the boon to be her advocate,' he said. 'And let me speak swiftly, for Privy Seal shall come soon and the Bishop of Winchester.' 'Ass that you are,' the King said, 'fetch me a stool from the chapel, that I may not stand all the day.' Throckmorton ran swiftly to the folding doors. '--Winchester comes,' he said hurriedly, when he returned. The King sat himself gingerly down upon the three-legged stool, balancing himself with his legs wide apart. A dark face peered from the folding doors: a priest's shape came out from them.